If [they] only had a brain...

I hope this is a phase. Someone please tell me this is a phase. My boys have officially lost their brains, and their loss of brain matter is causing me loss of patience. Two days in a row they have exhibited incredible lack of common sense.

Yesterday I found them sprinkling sand from the crabs' terrarium around the house because they were fascinated by how it sifted through the hole at the top of a pen cap. (And keep in mind that we have a house showing tomorrow, so I'm trying to get the housed cleaned up.) We had the following exchange, although my voice may not have been quiiite as calm and soft-spoken as I sound in type:

Me: When we had sand in the playground pit, what did we make you do before you came back in the house?

The Boys: Wash the sand off of our feet and legs.

Me: Why?

The Boys: Because you didn't want sand in the house.

Me: Giving them The Look.

Then today...we've been trying to cut down on the tattling, but we're glad Alex decided to let us in the boys' current escapades. Seems they had so enjoyed converting the outside playground slide yesterday into a water slide using the hose that they decided to recreate that inside. The boys' bunk bed has a slide attached to the ladder, and they were pouring cups of water down the slide for the re-creation.

I would share the exchange word-for-word, but we were speechless. I mean, what do you say? I think I came up with, "Do you EVER see Mommy and Daddy spraying the hose on the carpet???" (The anwer was "No.")

All this time I've been worried about teaching the kids their times tables, World History, and how to use commas properly when the class in which I need to enroll these boys is Common Sense 101.

Cool Cat Cara

It didn't work out with the puppy, and the tadpoles didn't survive our absence to Kentucky. But I think we scored gold with this cat. Her name is Carabella, or Cara for short, although neither Mark nor I can ever remember her name short or not. We campaigned to change it when we got her, but the kids wouldn't hear of it, so Cara it is.

Cara was a freebie from Craigslist. Well, free except for the gas it took for the 3-hour round trip to pick her up. She's a torti Siamese, a beauty. Our trip home was cause to give me second thoughts--she clawed her way out of the cardboard carrier and shed another cat in the car as she wandered around begging for freedom.

And her first night here was certainly cause to give me third thoughts. We decided to keep her locked up in our room so she would not get lost in the house and forget where her kitty potty was. Apparently, she's nocturnal because she kept us up just about the entire night pacing circles--up on the bed, over our heads, down to the foot of the bed, off the bed, up on the bed, over our heads...

The next night we moved her to the guest quarters, and we had a much better night. Since then, she has had a chance to explore the house and is feeling very at home now. Home enough to have caught a little skink for us somewhere in the house while we were out today.

Gifts aside, what's really endeared her to us is her love of the game Fetch. We think she's part dog, which works out well since we'd really prefer a dog but don't want the responsibility of a pooch. The other day, Mark was sitting on the bed, and Cara jumped up, plopped her little green mouse beside him, and waited expectantly. Mark threw it for her. She bounded down, retrieved the mouse, brought it back to Mark, and the game of Fetch was born. The funny thing is that she prefers to play with Mark; although he won't admit it, I think she's growing on him.

She gets along with all of us, however, even the kids. Of course the kids love her right back. Perhaps my favorite thing about her is that her kitty potty doesn't smell. Strange but true. I might write a letter to Tidy Cats and credit them for it; maybe I'd get some kick-backs. Or at least a coupon for my next litter purchase.

Apparently red-eye fix doesn't work on a cat. Her blue eyes really are pretty, not creepy.

Breaking In a New System

The house was abuzz today, abuzz with the sounds of vacuuming, of bottles spritzing, drawers slamming, and rags swish-swishing away layers of dust. No, we weren't getting ready for a party, although we are pulling double-duty tomorrow in the entertaining department with one family coming mid-morning and staying through lunch and another family coming mid-afternoon and staying through dinner. No, we're just breaking in a new chore system courtesy of America's Cheapest Family.

I've tried so many systems, and they have all broken down for one reason or another. I say broken down rather than failed because I'm sure, had I possessed a little sticktuitiveness, any one of them could have worked successfully. I know that, while it is the kids' responsibility to pull their weight around here, habits take awhile to form, and therefore it will take some prodding and reminders on my part until the children have made their chores a habit.

Like I said, I got this new idea from the Economides, America's cheapest family, and I tweaked it to fit our family. It took quite a bit of preparation, so I'm that much more motivated to make it work. The whole premise behind the system is to teach children real-world applications about earning money. They fill out a time card daily, and they can earn as much or as little as they put into their chores.

This is how I created the system for our family:

1. First I created one poster called "Chores". Then I thought of everything I do everyday, chores-wise right down to the nasty nitty-gritty of cleaning toilets. I then made little 1"x1" cards for each chore which have on them the name and a fun clipart of the chore. I adhered those velcro circle thingys to each card and the joining circle thingy to the poster.

2. I then created a poster with 4 parts for each child: "Chores", "Done", "Bonus", and a time card slot. I affixed velcro thingys on these posters as well (the side of the circle thingy that joins with the velcro on the little cards; you will therefore use more of one side of the velcro thingys than the other...got that?)

3. Finally, I made time cards for each child where they could record their points and bonus points everyday and then total them at the bottom. That total is then multiplied by their rate, which gives them the total dollar amount they should receive for their allowance.

And here's how it works:

1. Every night I place on each child's chart in the "Chores" box the chores he/she must do the next day.

2. The next day, the children theoretically do said chores and move each little card over to "Done" as each chore is complete.

3. Then, theoretically, the children are so responsible and so inspired to do their part for the family that they take a look at the Chore poster to see what chores have not been assigned (organizing a closet or cleaning a toilet, for example). They take the unassigned chores of their choice, complete them, and then place the little card on the "Bonus" section of their poster.

4. At the end of the day, we total the chores on the time cards. They receive 1 point for each chore completed and 2 points for each Bonus chore completed.

So, here are a couple of problems I ran into today:

1. First, I had to figure out what rate to pay each child. My initial thought was to pay each child 1 cent per year of age, but when I began totalling up potential earnings, I realized our children's chores might total right out of our budget. So I assigned $.06 to my oldest, $.05 to the next, $.04 to the youngest boy, and $.02 to the Princess. (I don't think we have to worry about her earning much, though. Yesterday I asked her to clean her room. She gave me a questioning look like, "Are you talkin' to ME?" I instructed her again, and she looked at me with such an offended look that I would even begin to suggest that she should clean anything.) Naturally, just like in the real world, they are eligible for raises for particularly extraordinary work.

2. I slept in a little today. OK, so I slept in a lot today. When I finally did get up, Michael had already cleaned his bathroom and was almost done with Audrey's room. I had told the kids that if one of their siblings did not complete a chore, that chore could be "stolen" and completed by someone else for bonus points (hey, it's dog eat dog out there in the real world!). Michael, without giving his poor little sister the benefit of the doubt, had already decided that she was not going to complete that task and had "stolen" it from her. I fixed this by telling the kids that they must wait until late afternoon to complete others' outstanding chores.

3. Jacob vacuumed the upstairs today for bonus points, and tonight I heard him and Alex plotting about who would vacuum tomorrow. As much as I love a really, really clean house, I've never in my life vacuumed EVERYDAY. I told them they need to approve bonus jobs with me before taking them to task.

So, in theory, it seems like an effective system that teaches so many lessons in responsibility, math, diligence, and initiative. There was an overabundance of those 4 things oozing out of our home today. We'll see how tomorrow goes...and the next 20 days since the experts say it takes 21 days for a habit to form.

Shhhh....Testing in Progress

My husband is constantly telling me how much my oldest daughter is like me. (I'll let you decide for yourselves if that's a good thing or not.) While it's kind of fun having a mini-me a not-so-mini-mini-me (she comes up to my shoulders and shares my shoes and socks, for cryin' out loud!) walking around here, there are of course areas in which the two of us clash because we are so much alike. Apparently, according to my husband, one of those areas is the one in which we know everything. Ie: we are know-it-alls. He says it endears us to him. I say she drives me nuts because of it.

It goes something like this...

Alex: Mom, did you know that the chartreuse dart frog of the Amazon has 5 legs and a 20-inch long tongue? It catches infrared 3-winged flies with that tongue.

Mom: Yeah, whatever, Alex. I'm sure you don't know what you're talking about.

Me: (Google chartreuse dart frog and infrared 3-winged flies). OK, Alex, I guess you're right. (And, by the way, I know I often tell you to Google stuff; don't Google that nonsense!)

Mark and I often call her Cliff Claven because of her propensity for storing trivial knowledge. Surprisingly, she doesn't get that reference, but since it only goes to show how old we are...

This week Alex is getting to show off some of her vast knowledge on the Iowa Test. I snuck a peek at it prior to our testing week (just to see, not to teach from; I am ethical!) and realized that there was no reason for her not to ace the test. I found very few questions I thought would even be difficult for her. That is, if you don't factor in her carelessness.

You see, part of our know-it-all'ness is that we are not patient with directions and being told how to do something. Because we know the best way to do something already. (Hey, isn't that supposed to be a man trait?) I knew this would be her one and only pitfall--not listening to how to approach the questions, not reading each question and the possible answers thoroughly.

Overall, despite her often rushed attitude to just get through it without paying close attention to detail, she has done well. She has indeed missed some due to her carelessness, however, and I have to make a huge effort not to hang over her shoulder, thus resisting the urge to say, "Come on, Alex, read that more carefully!" Surprisingly unlike me is that the test on which she has made the most mistakes is the punctuation test. I would lament the fact that perhaps she did not pick up my annoying proofreading/editing/correcting-you-whether-you-asked-or-not gene, but I know this too can be attributed to her carelessness. Next year we'll use Critical Thinking Co.'s Editor in Chief to work more on attention to detail in punctuation.

Before we think about next year, however, we do have 4 more days of this school year to go. And one more day of testing. I know Alex is anxious to be done with it. Wii have had some fun, though, taking testing breaks. I found a new Wii game I really like, and Alex loves to play it with me. I've been eyeing that rock band game you can get for Wii, and I may even write to Santa about it. We have a game that is like a micro version of it...there is the band, but you still use the nunchuks instead of actual faux instruments. There is also dancing. I enjoy the dancing, although the only dancing I'm good at is watching So You Think You Can Dance. Alex always creams me in the dancing game, even though she possesses about as little rhythm as I do.

But the instruments game is my game. I've always wanted to learn to play the drums. In fact, one of the reasons I had children was in the hopes that one of them would want to learn the drums, and I could learn through them. Well, not really. This game has drums, and I rock at it. So our testing days go something like this: One 1/2 hour test, play the dancing game. One 1/2 hour test and a 25 minute test thrown in for good measure, play the band game. Then play the dancing game again. One 15 minute test, play the band game and the dancing game followed by the band game.

Score one for homeschooling: I'm pretty sure real schoolchildren didn't get to play dancing and band games between tests this year.

A Week's Worth of Numbers

Crossview commented on a previous post that I deserved a medal. Although the merits of any type of award are certainly debatable, I'm here to collect. I made it through...

--5 days of enthusiastic, energetic, screaming children...and witnessed 8 of them give their hearts to Jesus,

--3 hours in the car to pick up a free cat from a Craigs List poster...and, because it was close by, had the opportunity to visit Bread Beckers, which is the place from which I purchase my wheat,

--1 sleepless night with a new kitty pacing around the room...and realized that she is actually a very easy-going cat...when she's sleeping elsewhere,

--5 nights preceded by a vow to be in bed before midnight...and right now am "fiddling"--as my better half calls it--right into another late night...but I get to sleep in tomorrow,

--30+ unexpected guests at my house Wednesday night for a party that was supposed to be Not Here...and had a wonderful time catching up with old friends,

--5 mornings of alarm clock awakenings, followed by an ever-increasing number of hits on the snooze...and gained a better appreciation for people who hold real jobs or wake up every morning to take their children to real school.

A lot of hard work this week but a rewarding one. And about that waking up every morning? Well, with a resident princess, the implications are that somewhere there lurks a queen. Um, that would be me. And this queen doesn't do mornings. Thank goodness my mornings that begin with the incessant beep of an alarm clock are few and far between.

A Successful Failure

I suspect every teenager does it; in fact, I'm sure I started as a pre-teen. I'm referring, of course, to that mental file we make called "What I Will Never Do As a Parent." I'm sure my kids have already started theirs.

I was a picky eater growing up, but my parents were of the thought that if they forced me to gag raw, slimy tomatoes and mushy avocado down enough times, I would grow fond of them. Consequently, number one on my mental list was I will not force my children to eat food they do not like.

The people who ran my boarding school were of the same thought as my parents. I remember sitting at lunch faced with a "dessert plate" which contained slices of papaya and wedges of lemon to squeeze on to the papaya. I opted for a wedge of lemon because, surely if I had let a piece of papaya touch my lips, I know I would have lost my lunch. The oatmeal was the worst. It sat in the bottom of the bowl, a sad, lumpy, cold pile of gray mush. No one liked it. Stevie Pittman didn't like it either, but at least he didn't gag when he tried to eat it, so I paid him my allowance every week to eat mine on the three days it was served to us. I still to this day cannot eat oatmeal; even the smell of American oatmeal triggers a gag reflex.

I think it goes without saying that I have a few issues. And I think it goes without saying that I had good intentions adding I will not force my children to eat food they do not like to my mental list.

However. Now I'm actually a parent. And while I still share great empathy with my picky children's food aversions, I have this strange desire to see them grow up healthy. I know it's partially my fault. My oldest would eat ANYTHING until one day at the ripe age of 18 months, she decided she DIDN'T want to eat anything. And, rather than still placing her old faves in front of her, I pulled from my mental file and did what came naturally: "Oh, you don't like that anymore? Well, you don't have to eat it."

So now here we are eight years later. She is by far the pickiest of the bunch. Her willingness to try new things has improved, but there still isn't a vegetable or fruit she'll touch with a 10-foot pole. Until tonight. Only she doesn't know it.

You see, a couple of weeks ago, I purchased this book called Deceptively Delicious by Jessica Seinfeld (yes, Jerry's wife). I have been poring over this book since I purchased it, plotting my best deception. The strategy behind each recipe is to hide veggie and fruit purees in kid-friendly recipes (think avocado puree in brownies, cauliflower puree in scrambled eggs). Of course, the book has its critics. Some say you shouldn't hide fruits and veggies because then when the kids become adults they will turn their noses up at strawberries, carrots, and broccoli. You know what? My children already do that. I decided I'm going to deal with today and deal with my grown up kids when they're grown up. The goal right now is to get them to grown-up. And in as healthy a fashion as possible.

So tonight I finally stopped my plotting and decided to dive in. In the interest of being honest, I suppose I should divulge a little secret to all of you people who have this false impression that I'm some sort of Super Mom: I don't cook. I don't like to cook. I like to bake, but unfortunately, man does not live by cake and cookies alone. When TravelDaddy is home, he does all the cooking; he loves it, by the way, and is right up there with Emeril and Bobby Flay. He often even overcooks so we'll have leftovers while he's gone. And, really, I do some cooking while he's gone, but I always stick to what I know: spaghetti, tacos, and waffles for dinner, that kind of stuff.

Anyway, the recipe I chose for tonight was for chicken nuggets. And, just to make it seem like McDonald's around here, I made french fries: regular for the kids, sweet potato fries for me (and for them to try). (All we needed for the full McDonald's experience was a cheap toy and bad service.) Unfortunately and in my opinion, the nuggets were disastrous. According to the recipe, I was to dip the chicken in a mixture of raw egg and spinach puree. I was then to dip them in the bread/flax mixture, thus HIDING the spinach. The bread mixture (which was homemade bread and fresh ground flax: score 1 for healthy!) did not hide a thing. So I muttered a few unsavory words in my head but continued the cooking, all the while mentally (my brain is busy, I tell ya!) reviewing the contents of the pantry and fridge to decide what I'd feed the kids once they got a look of the green nuggets.

Everything was finally cooked an hour later than we usually eat dinner. Because my non-cooking cooking takes a lot of time. Thankfully, the later hour meant there was little light in the kitchen, and I decided not to turn the lights on at all. I fake cheerfully set their plates in front of them and was, of course, met by "What is that green stuff?" And here is where I told a little white lie. Just a tiny one, which I know, according to what I've been preaching to my VBS kids all week is just as bad as a big one. But, really, it couldn't be helped; the health of my precious children is at stake. "Oh, that green stuff," I said dismissively, "that's just spice. It makes the chicken taste better. Like salt. Salt's a spice. You guys love salt."

And the verdict? Well...I was finally able to convince Jacob to eat one piece. But the others? They wolfed it down, especially Alex who claimed it was "delicious" and kept getting up to get more. I wonder what she'd say if I told her? I don't plan to, of course, because that would raise high suspicions about all future dishes...and tonight I plan to make peanut butter and banana muffins with cauliflower puree. Shhhhh!!

Well, that's one way to get it done

Starting VBS 12 hours after returning from an almost week-long trip and 7 hours in the car didn't help. But, then, neither did the acquisition of a cat who kept us up her entire first night with us. And, of course, the million, kazillion daily chores that still must get done don't help either. Without pin-pointing the exact cause, the thing is I'm still not even unpacked yet from the trip. And I always unpack within the first couple of hours of returning home.

This afternoon after VBS was going to be a leisurely afternoon of going grocery shopping (although with 4 kids, that is NEVER leisurely) and then beginning the unpacking before heading to a friend's neighborhood pool for an Over the Hill birthday party for another friend (got that?).

But...turns out that our friend's neighborhood pool is closed until tomorrow.

So...the party has moved to here!

Which means...no leisurely (or not so leisurely as the case may be) trip to the grocery store, which means either fast food or Dig-Through-the-Fridge-and-Pantry for your lunch after VBS tomorrow.

And...a speedy unpacking and clean up of this mess I call my home. At least I'm not trying to get ready to show the house in a couple of hours.

Although...potential buyers are most certainly welcome!